OneThousand Raindrops
by de yaten
Summary: Drabbles and short one shots featuring Kiyoshi Mitarai, or Seaman. Other Sensui Arc characters appear. Posted as I write them. Rating and pairings vary by story. Updated 2.03.2008
1. Everything but the Bathroom Sink

Title: Everything but the Bathroom Sink

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: A super drabble about Kiyoshi's first encounter with a monster of his own creation. It's a vague continuation of "The Nail that Sticks Up…" but I actually wrote this first and The Nail That Sticks Up accidentally led up to this. I say this is about his first encounter with a monster, and not the first time he cut himself, because I didn't focus on that aspect of it at all.

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters.

--------

The first time Kiyoshi Mitarai cut himself, he had expected that it would hurt a little, but knew that running the wound under cool water would help soothe the pain. He hadn't expected, however, for a small monster to leap out of his sink and terrorize him.

Scrambling backwards, he watched as the creature proceeded to trash the small bathroom. It knocked the waste bin over, spilling the red-soaked tissues onto the tile. The neatly arranged shampoo bottles were crushed, and the scented contents oozed down their Western bathtub.

Barely dodging a thrown-bar of soap, Mitarai managed to stammer out a command to the beast. "H-Hey! You! Whatever you are! Stop right now!"

The destruction ceased as the monster paused and seemed to acknowledge the boy's words.

"Um," Mitarai began, "can you… understand me?"

The monster leaned forward, giving a semblance of a nod.

"Well… if you can understand me, then stop destroying my bathroom, OK?" The monster leaped onto a small ledge above the bathtub, and watched as Mitarai tried to clean up the room. He shoved the bloody tissues into the bottom of the trash bin, hoping his mother wouldn't take it upon herself to take the trash out tomorrow. It would be a first, in any case.

"I don't know what you are, or how you got here, but you'd better leave. My mom doesn't like pets, and she definitely won't like you if she sees this mess. " He looked up, wondering if the watery creature had come from the cool sink water, his warm blood, or both. "Besides," he said, with that all-too-familiar tight feeling in his throat, "I'm weird enough without having a monster in my bathroom. So just go away."

The creature complied, hopping into the sink, and leaving a splash of water behind before it disappeared completely.

As Mitarai wiped down the bathtub, he couldn't help the curious thought that pushed itself past his lips:

"_Could I make another?" _


	2. The Nail that Sticks Up

Title: The Nail That Sticks Up…

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: A super drabble (too long to be a drabble, too short for a story) about Kiyoshi's experiences in school, and the incident that led to the first time he hurt himself. It leads up to Everything But the Bathroom Sink, sort of – I wrote that one before this one and it happened to go in that direction.

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters.

-----

If Kiyoshi Mitarai had it his way, he would've been born a stereotypical brown-eyed, black-haired Japanese boy. But as it was, he had blonde hair and blue eyes –a literal nail that stuck up from the time he was born. The doctors, the neighbors, and of course – his classmates – had never failed to hammer him down.

Little Kiyoshi had begun his first day of school with a beaming smile and brand new Official Blue Action Man sneakers. When his mother picked him up at the end of the day, his sneakers were missing (he misplaced them, he told her) and two of his teeth had been knocked out (in a gym accident, according to the official office records).

When the teacher decided to hold an election for the class manager, Kiyoshi raised his hand to sign up. His mother told him that maybe if he ran for class manager, then the other kids would respect him. The ensuing jeers following his upright hand caused him to quit the race before it had even begun.

Nothing changed as he grew up. When he should've been awkwardly staring at girls across the room at this first Junior High party, he was in his room, pretending there was a homework assignment that – no, really mom – couldn't wait until tomorrow. On the day of his first Junior High class trip, he mysteriously came down with severe headaches that no amount of aspirin could cure. The next day, he responded to his classmates' taunts about his absence by protesting that his mother didn't let him go. ("It was a Western holiday or something, I swear!")

Junior High was the bane of Kiyoshi's existence. Sometimes he wished that he had been a delinquent so he could get kicked out of school. Or a genius, and been accepted into an exclusive prep school that might accept him for who he was. Then again, wouldn't his looks stick out at any school in Japan?

At least a prep school would be full of nerds who couldn't hold him down and beat him. Or, as he liked to call it - Things Got Really Out of Hand In Dodgeball Today, Mom.

Once, and only once, Kiyoshi had told his mother the truth about what had happened at school. Nobu Wakamara, the class manager, cornered Kiyoshi on the school rooftop during the lunch break. After luring Kiyoshi out with his school bag– "Please! My homework is in there!" – he kicked the blonde boy's legs out from under him, and in one sweep, lifted Kiyoshi onto the unprotected ledge of the roof.

Kiyoshi screamed, unfortunately for him, as several school officials stepped out of the front doors below. Their panicked pleas for him to reconsider suicide drew a large crowd to the front lawn, much to the delight of Nobu, who was watching from a safe distance. Although he managed to jump back onto the safety of the rooftop, he couldn't convince the school that he hadn't been trying to kill himself. Nobu, of course, kindly offered himself as a witness – "Poor Mitarai, I went up there to talk to him about his isolation from the rest of the class, and he threw down his bag and jumped up! Thankfully I was there to calm him down…"

When the school had him call home to inform his mother of the incident, he practically heard the screaming that was waiting for him under her calm, motherly words. The phrase, "See you at home, honey," had never sounded foreboding to Kiyoshi before.

And, of course, his mother refused to listen to him when he told her that Nobu lifted him onto the ledge and lied to the teachers. He _really _wasn't suicidal, mom, and he'd never do anything to hurt himself or his family.

"Unlike you!"

He hadn't meant to say it. It was barely a thought in his head before he blurted it out, pointing an accusing finger towards his mother.

A hard slap to the face was his answer.

"Slit your wrists for all I care!"

His mother left the house, unaware that Kiyoshi would take her up on the offer an hour later.


	3. Mommy Dearest

Title: Mommy Dearest

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: I came upon this idea while looking for prompts for other Mitarai drabbles/short fics. This didn't spawn from a prompt but I needed to write it before I lost the images in my head.

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters.

--

He was going to kill her.

He _needed _to kill her.

His mother had been cruel to him for far too long. It was time to end it.

He crept into the bathroom, avoiding turning on the light switch so she wouldn't know he was awake. Better to take her by surprise, he supposed.

He pulled the creaking sink handle and waited for the water to warm up. His knife glinted in the darkness. He pulled it against his skin, watching the blood bubble up. The monster that came was too big for the bathroom – Kiyoshi had to step out so the creature could duck down and slither into the hallway.

She was in the kitchen, watching the TV. Some boring news program about the sad state of teenagers today. Lazy, depressed, self-important teenagers were littering Japan! She nodded in agreement, toasting the TV with her drink.

She might drown faster if she's drunk, he mused. Or did it matter? Might as well find out.

She didn't hear the monster hovering behind her, and only jerked in surprise when she was enveloped by its waters. She gasped, by reflex, and began to inhale mouthfuls of the water.

Kiyoshi watched as she managed to spin around in the beast, and saw her son standing there.

"Kiyoshi!"

The gurgled cry came as a surprise. He didn't know they could talk when they were drowning.

"Kiyoshi!"

Her eyes were bulging. Her legs kicked at the water.

She was _so_ close.

"Kiyoshi!"

He jerked up in his bed, bleary-eyes finding his mother standing in the doorway harping at him.

"Get up! You'll be late for school!"

--


	4. Dinner Party

Title: Dinner Party

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: Haha, definitely planned to write something spOOooky for Halloween, but I'm just not in that kind of mood. So, here's a nice, quick, light story.

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters.

--

Kiyoshi held the note in his hand, unsure of what to think. It was the first letter he had gotten in the post in years.

_Seaman – I trust you are well. I am calling a meeting of The Seven tomorrow night. I'd like us all to get to know one another, and what better way to do that then to share a dinner? Please bring something to split among us all. Please note that Game Master is allergic to peanuts. _

_-Sensui_

He bit his lip nervously. What was he going to do? He wasn't much of a cook. He learned how to make very simple dishes – rice and vegetables, or a simple stir fry, but nothing beyond that. And what could he make that could be shared between all the Seven?

A bell suddenly went off in Kiyoshi's head. That was it! It was light, refreshing, and it didn't even need to be cooked!

The next day, he timidly rang the buzzer on Sensui's apartment door. It was quickly answered, and Sensui gestured for the boy to enter. Kiyoshi shifted the bag in his hands while he removed his shoes, and made his way into a small dining room.

The rest of the Seven were already there – Kiyoshi suspected that Gourmet had arrived first, as it looked like he was wolfing down a third helping of rice. When entered, the hulking man eyed the bag in his hands eagerly.

"What'dya bring, Seaman?"

Kiyoshi pulled a covered bowl from the bag and placed it on the edge of the table.

Sensui, who had been standing next to the table, peered into the bowl.

"Is that…?"

The smallest hint of a smile quirked on his lips.

In the bowl lay a simple, cool fruit salad.


	5. Bleed

Title: Bleed

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: All right, something a bit darker for Halloween-times. Deals with self-injury and blood, but it's not graphic. (Just small descriptions of blood.)

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters.

--

Blood.

Droplets were forming on his skin, greeting him with their rich warm color.

_Why was it only in sadness that we see our own blood? _

It looked so perfectly red – his own blood. Too perfect. Unreal. If anyone else had been there, they would've thought it was fake.

Fake, he supposed, to someone who had never _really_ bled.

He scoffed.

Normal people probably thought of bleeding as a paper cut, or the occasional nick while shaving. A thin red line was the most blood they would ever see coming out of their own bodies.

He, however, was special.

He had plenty of opportunities to watch a stream of blood slowly spill over the deep groove of a cut. Sometimes, he mixed the blood with water, to practice his power. Sensui told him he needed to practice, practice, practice… which meant he needed to bleed, bleed, bleed.

Other times, he dug the knife into his flesh to cover the images of Chapter Black with the blinding flash that a fresh wound brought. No more torture, no more lynchings, no more gas chambers. Just a cut and some pain and a feeling of brief, remorseless joy.

Today, he had only wanted to see his blood. It had been two days since they last parted, and he couldn't wait any longer. It didn't matter that tomorrow Sensui was going to ask him to make a large monster, as proof that he had been practicing.

Sniper hit a small target to prove his skills. Game Master defeated a level of a game on hard mode. Gourmet usually ate an unsuspecting psychic picked from the street.

When Seaman needed to prove his worth – he just had to bleed.


	6. A Chance Meeting

Title: A Chance Meeting

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: I wanted to do my own take on how Kiyoshi met up with Sensui. It seems most fanfics have Kiyoshi being beat up and Sensui showing up afterwards, after the bullies are gone or Kiyoshi has killed/hurt them because he's suddenly discovered his powers. I always imagined something a bit mundane, much like how Game Master met him.

--

It was, as his father used to say, raining cats and dogs.

It made everyone miserable.

It had barely begun to sprinkle down when they grabbed for their umbrellas, hovering under them as if the rain would burn their skin. When it began to almost pour down from the sky, everyone sought shelter inside their homes.

Well, almost everyone.

Kiyoshi Mitarai loved the rain. It didn't bother him when it had started sprinkling, and he sighed in relief when he was left alone after the rain became thick. There was nothing he loved more than to be alone when it rained – not to sulk or reflect on the sadness of life, as most people did.

He liked the sound rain made when rain hit roof shingles, or the way the droplets bounced back ever so slightly when they hit the ground. Sometimes he could spend hours experiencing the rain. He would find himself completely lost in thought most of the time, completely focused on his surroundings.

It was during one of these trances that his life changed forever.

He sat, motionless, watching the streaming rain collect in a drain across the street. He noticed, with a start, that the rain had stopped falling on him.

Someone was holding an umbrella over his head.

Kiyoshi braced himself against the bench, looking at the stranger apprehensively.

It was a foreigner, he thought. The man's skin was bronzed and there was a strange mark on his forehead – a bindi, possibly. His face seemed very gentle, even though he wasn't smiling. He almost looked concerned.

"You don't want to catch a cold, now do you?"

Kiyoshi swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat, and softly pushed away the umbrella handle.

"I… I like the rain."

It was to this that the man smiled.

"Do you, now? Let me introduce myself – My name is Shinobu Sensui."


	7. Distractions

Title: Distractions

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: Ahh, I went to an anime convention this weekend and I'm PUMPED UP for fanfiction. I might be writing some more Kingdom Hearts 2 fanfiction in the next few days, once I finish my 3 Mitarai pieces for this project. I feel bad for poor Kiyoshi… I tried to make the focus more on Kiyoshi's thoughts instead of "omg look how bullied he is!" though.

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters.

--

It had been three days since they had finished watching Chapter Black, and he was still having nightmares.

The gruesome tape was far more disturbing than Kiyoshi had ever imagined. He knew humanity had done horrible, twisted things – even the vaguest history class had taught him that . But it wasn't until he actually _saw_ what horrible, twisted things humanity had done, that the true nature of human beings was made clear to him. A few times during the video he heard himself gasping for air, because he couldn't breathe during certain scenes. During a rape. Or during the torture of two innocent demon girls. He wasn't sure anymore.

He had even stopped paying attention during school. A completely dull look took over his face during every class, even the ones he had previously enjoyed (the ever-present 'kick me' signs and spitballs aimed at his hair aside).

The teachers probably assumed he was trying to look apathetic about the constant teasing. How could they know he was thinking about genocides and the sadistic smiles of various murderers? They didn't cover their ears to muffle the screams reverberating in his ears, they couldn't wince back as they practically felt the slick blood from a freshly decapitated corpse spraying across their face.

One teacher did sense something was amiss. His writing teacher, who had often given Kiyoshi small praises for a particularly well-worded paragraph in a story, or the way a poem he had written avoided the common traps of teenage-prose.

After the break bell had sounded, the teacher lightly tapped Kiyoshi on the shoulder.

"I'd like to speak with you, Mitarai."

Kiyoshi's heart rose into his throat. Why would his teacher need to talk? It had to be one of three things, he concluded: The teacher had noticed a cut or scar on his arm, he was being reprimanded for not paying attention in class, or he had another 'Kick Me' sign plastered to his back.

The teacher motioned for the boy to sit on the other side of his desk, and smiled warmly.

_No doubt to lure me into trusting him…_ Kiyoshi thought, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"I've noticed that you haven't been paying attention during class anymore, Mitarai. Any special reason why?"

_Well, I've been having extremely realistic nightmares where I'm torturing innocent people. Is that what you want to hear?_

"No, sir. I'm sorry I haven't been paying attention, I'm just feeling distracted."

The teacher gave Kiyoshi a concerned look. He always knew when his students were lying.

"What are you being distracted by? … It's all right if you tell me, anything we say here is kept in confidence."

_Hmm… let's see… when you're talking about the correct way to compose an essay, all I can hear are the gurgling death cries of some civilian whose been bayoneted. Oh! Or how about the furious scratching of a demon child who's been locked in an airtight box by people who are betting on how long it'll take the boy to die? Maybe I should tell you about the screams and cries I heard when the locked hut was set on fire, because the family had apparently withheld crops from their leader. _

"Nothing much, sir, I've just… I haven't really gotten a lot of sleep lately. I'll be sure to pay attention more in class from now on."

Kiyoshi stood up, hoping the teacher would get the hint that he wanted to leave.

The teacher stood as well, motioning for the both of them to walk towards the door.

"I want you to know you can come to me if you want to talk, all right? We can talk about anything you want - I really mean _anything_, Mitarai."

The words were the first thing the teacher had said all day that actually stuck with Kiyoshi.

Sensui had spoken the exact same words three days ago, after they had finished Chapter Black.


	8. The Unicorn and the Lake

Title: The Unicorn and the Lake

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: This came from a prompt, "the unicorn and the lake" (don't ask how it got to this. o.O) I wanted to explore a bit with Kiyoshi and a character I haven't seen touched on, because there's no actual canon information about him. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters.

--

For as long as he could remember, Kiyoshi Mitarai had loved the water.

His father used to take him to a secluded lake in the countryside. The trip took almost half a day by train, but it was always worth it. The lake itself was deep within a forest, and the complete seclusion of the area gave it a mythical aura. Aside from the animals, and occasional local villager, it was always just Kiyoshi and his dad.

They would swim in the crisp, clear water together, or sit by the water's edge at sunset and hold a simple conversation in hushed tones.

After his father died, Kiyoshi vowed to never return to the lake again. It held too many memories.

Vows, of course, are eventually broken.

At the moment, he couldn't decide if Sensui had somehow found out about his childhood trips to this spot, or had picked it simply because of its natural beauty and isolated location. Either way, he would've given anything to leave.

Sensui lead the seven psychics, sans Kamiya, who had to work, through the near untouched forest. No one was speaking, and aside from the rhythmic crunching of food coming from Gourmet's mouth, it was eerily silent.

As they near the lake, Kiyoshi swore he could see his father and a younger, more innocent Kiyoshi sitting by the water's edge. The boy held a fishing rod, and his father was thumbing through a guide on catching and cooking wild fish.

Although the boy eventually caught something, they had been forced to throw it back once little Kiyoshi realized that catching a fish and cooking it meant _killing_ it. Instead, they sat on the fresh grass surrounding the lake, and shared a precooked meal they had brought. Little Kiyoshi never once took his eyes off the lake, causing a small chuckle from his father.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" The father said, beaming at his spellbound son.

"Mitarai?"

Kiyoshi 's head jerked up, noticing that they had stopped, and everyone was now staring at him. It had been Sensui, not his father, who had spoke.

"It's beautiful, am I right?" Sensui commented, a smile tugging at his lips.

Kiyoshi nodded quickly, and shoved his hands in his pockets. He spared the lake a quick glance, and wanted very much to smile.

Even Amanuma, who was normally unimpressed with anything other than video games, looked overwhelmed by the scenery. He was trying to catch the many butterflies that swarmed around the flower patches.

It _was_ beautiful, even more so than when he had been a child. It was an unnatural beauty in a world of skyscrapers and buildings shoved so close together that you could order out for food and watch it being made from your bedroom window.

But what was the point of all this beauty without his father to share it with him?


	9. A Ship Full of Seamen

Title: A Ship Full of Seamen

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: I just want to say thanks to my reviewers, especially ladyasile for reviewing every chapter! I really like input, especially since this is the most fanfiction I've written in over a year. I had planned for this chapter to be a "Kiyoshi reflects on himself" piece, but I'm just not satisfied with it yet. I wrote this while taking a break from the reflection piece.

Warnings: This story is basically a really bad joke. Really. Not joking. You have been forewarned:D

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters.

--

Kiyoshi threw another crumpled wad of paper into his waste basket, and sighed.

At their last meeting, Sensui had asked the seven to come up with a nickname for themselves.

"_Make it befitting of your powers, if you can. These will be our new code names. I have called myself Dark Angel – you may still refer to me as Sensui, if you'd like. Have them ready for the next meeting." _

After two nights of brainstorming, and countless sheets of wasted paper, he was still completely stumped.

He needed a name that would complete his transformation from the old, weak Kiyoshi Mitarai into the newly improved person he had become. Someone who didn't stand for bullying – he wouldn't shirk away from a thrown fist or harsh words. He would strike back at the bullies and teach them a lesson – permanently, if he felt like it. If he was in a good mood, he would only hurt them a little bit.

They'd all bleed, anyway, when the tidal wave of demons was unleashed upon the earth.

"That's it!" Kiyoshi bit back a proud smile, and wrote as elegantly as he could on a sheet of notebook paper.

It made a perfect nickname, he thought, although he may as well run it by Sensui before the meeting… just in case.

Sensui raised an eyebrow at the paper the young psychic had given him.

"Perhaps we should go with a different name, Mitarai?"

The boy agreed sheepishly, embarrassed for having not seen the subtext of the words he had chosen.

"The, ah… Crimson Tide may be taken the wrong way by some people. Instead, your codename will be… Sea Man."


	10. No Turning Back

Title: No Turning Back

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: Kiyoshi has always intrigued me. I think it's because he was the only one of the Seven to realize that there was something wrong with the whole thing, and he tried to make amends. He is a bit trying sometimes though – "omg just say THEY'RE AFTER KUWABARA!" it doesn't hurt that he looks like a cute

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters.

--

Kiyoshi braced himself against the apartment wall – what was left of it, anyway – and listened as Kurama and the others made their way down the stairs.

They were going to save Kuwabara – the same Kuwabara who had saved Kiyoshi only a few hours before.

_You should go! You should go! You should go!_

The words relentlessly drummed in his head, over and over, until he could no longer take it.

"I CAN'T!" he screamed.

A mutter of an echo was his only answer.

"I can't go. Not now. Not after I…"

The memory of Kuwabara's friends floating in the water, half-dead, flashed through his mind. He had killed them. Well, almost. He would've killed them if Kuwabara hadn't been able to break through Kiyoshi's barrier.

He was no better than the people on the tape.

Chapter Black… hours upon hours of humans showing their true nature. Killing, maiming, torturing. All with a smile on their face. They were terrifying.

_I wonder if Kuwabara's friends thought I was terrifying? _

He knew the truth: he, too, was a human. Every human, once you peeled away the tenderly constructed masks, was a dark, disturbing being. A monster, capable of true evil.

But hadn't Kuwabara saved him, when he should've taken revenge and slaughtered the younger boy? Kiyoshi had hurt him. Hurt his friends. And yet, Kuwabara carried all of them, limping, weak, to Yusuke and Botan. They had even let him live, even after discovering his attack on Kuwabara and his friends.

Botan had almost died when she pushed him away from the falling bookshelf.

He couldn't understand why. The old woman confronted him about Botan's injuries. Didn't they understand that no one helped another person unless there was something in it for them?

"It's not what the tape showed me!"

Kurama had placed a hand gently on his shoulder then.

"Chapter Black is a one-sided argument. It wasn't meant to be viewed alone."

Was there another tape? Hours upon hours of humans helping each other, doing "good deeds" out of the kindness of their hearts… Impossible.

_Unless…_

Kiyoshi struggled to the bed, and found his sweater that had been cast aside. Gingerly, he lifted it over his head and slipped it on.

He would go with them. He would lead them to the Sensui and the tunnel.

When they saved Kuwabara, he would ask about the other tape.


	11. Girl Trouble

Title: Girl Trouble

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: SPS-kun -- LMAO. Best Seaman joke EVER. I completely stole your joke, though tweaked a bit, for this fic. bows I AM NOT WORTHY! This one took longer than usual to write – I worked on it for about 4 days. I couldn't get exactly what I wanted to write to flow well. I think this final version came out okay, although it's about… errr 500 words longer than I originally intended.

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters. Or SPS-Kun's joke of awesomeness. (Weird OT note: Awesomeness is a word, according to Microsoft Word. What is up with that?)

--

It had been a trying day for Kiyoshi.

On top of getting shoved by someone (_Nobu?)_ upon entering a class, turning in a less-than-adequately finished paper in English, and having his lunch mysteriously disappear… he was late to a meeting with the Seven.

_At least we're meeting nearby this time, _Kiyoshi thought, as he spotted the small, dimly lit sign down the street. He had never been to this particular restaurant before – well, he hadn't been to many restaurants, since his mother considered them the first 'luxury' to go when money was tight, which it often was.

Upon entering, Kiyoshi was greeted to the sight of a less-than-amused Sensui leaning casually against the hostess counter.

"Mitarai," he said, more of a statement than a greeting. Without another word, he motioned for the boy to join the already-packed table with the other Seven, sans Itsuki, who hardly – if ever – left his post.

"Sorry I'm late, Mr. Sensui," he said, squeezing into the space between Amanuma and Gourmet. "I had to stay late today."

Sensui, who had taken his place at the head of the table, eyed the young psychic coolly. "Trouble at school again, Mitarai?"

The blonde nodded meekly, at first, but narrowed his eyes in an attempt to look threatening. "It doesn't matter anyway, right? They'll all be dead within a few weeks."

The smile Sensui gave would've unnerved someone who wasn't used to slicing up their arms.

"Right. Well, now that we're all here—"

"Hey, can we order before we start all this Tunnel mumbo-jumbo?" Gourmet interrupted, licking the remains of a home-brought sandwich from his lips.

Sensui, who had been less than pleased with Kiyoshi's lack of punctuality, suppressed a visible cringe. He decided to get ordering out of the way to avoid being interrupted again, and gestured for a waitress to approach.

The waitress that came was wearing a sickeningly pink uniform that contrasted with the dreary brown décor inside the restaurant.

"Good afternoon!" She bowed slightly, and smiled at the group. "My name is Mikoto, and I'm happy to serve you today! Have you decided on your meals?"

The psychics muttered something of an affirmative, and Mikoto began taking their orders.

Everything went smoothly – Sensui asked for a simple tea, while Gourmet asked for three servings of their bulkiest meal—until she came to Kiyoshi, who was trying to disappear into the back of his chair.

"What would you like, si… oh! Hey! Don't we go to the same school?"

Kiyoshi, who had been trying his best to hide his face from the girl, sighed in defeat. He hated seeing classmates outside of school – and, with his luck, it _had_ to be Mikoto.

"Yeah. We have the same homeroom class." _And I bet you don't even know my name._

Mikoto smiled, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Ah… I'm sorry, I'm so bad at matching faces to names!"

"It's fine," he said, trying to hide the bitter feeling rising in his stomach. "I'm Kiyoshi Mitarai."

"I remember now! Kiyo-chan!" She chirped, smiling even brighter.

Unlike Sensui, Kiyoshi wasn't able to suppress his visible cringe.

_Kiyo-__**chan**_ _Nobu and his friends had called him that when he couldn't pass an endurance test in gym. The nickname had eventually spread to the entire school, and he found himself wishing he was still only known as "That Blonde Kid." _

"Shouldn't you be taking his order?" Sensui said, keeping his eyes on the blonde psychic.

Mikoto blushed and tightened her grip on the notepad. "I'm sorry for the interruption. What would you like, Kiyo-chan?"

He ordered a small rice dish, having lost most of his appetite when she called him Kiyo-chan for the second time.

She finished the orders, and quickly went back into the kitchen.

Amanuma was the first to speak.

"Sooo… Kiyo-_chan_" – another cringe—"is Mikoto your girlfriend or something?"

An adamant "NO" was his answer, but the smaller boy noticed the red flush that had slowly crept its way onto Kiyoshi's face.

"I think you liiike her! Look at your face, it's all red!"

A hand shot up to his face reflexively.

"She's NOT my girlfriend! I don't even know her!"

"Well," Amanuma said, crossing his arms smugly, "then why did you try to hide when she came to the table? And don't tell me that just anybody calls you Kiyo-chan."

"Well, they do, okay? All the girls—everyone at school—calls me Kiyo-chan.

"Oh, I get it now," Amanuma said, leaning forward slightly. "You have a whole bunch of girlfriends _and_ boyfriends at school, huh?"

Before Kiyoshi could sputter a retort, a loud chuckle came from further down the table.

Kamiya, who hadn't spoken a word the entire afternoon, was trailing a lithe finger around the rim of his empty water glass.

"If there's anything I've learned from being Mitarai's doctor, it's this: Women and Seaman just don't mix."


	12. Letters

Title: Letters

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: I've always wanted to write Kiyoshi/Kuwabara. It's just so darn flipping cute. I tried to make it as non-fluffy as possible, but it's hard when Kiyoshi looks like a cute lil' puppy. I also broke canon a bit for this. Don't kill me! I think this is my first m/m that hasn't been dark or nonconsensual. Lmao. Bad

Warnings: M/M pairing. Nothing sexual, but if you don't like m/m, you may not enjoy this.

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters.

--

Kiyoshi Mitarai was feeling unusually lightheaded as he headed home.

It had been over three years—he couldn't be exactly sure now—since Sensui died, stripping away the titles of the remaining Seven and sending them back to the boring truth of the real world.

_The real world __**is**__ boring, _Kiyoshi thought. _But I'd rather be bored than bleeding._

He approached the worn out street leading to his apartment building. Normally, he would've gone to the park and done his homework before heading home. Anything to keep his time with his mother as limited as possible.

But today was special. He was going to get a letter today.

A letter from Kuwabara.

True to his word, Kuwabara had stayed in touch with Kiyoshi, and they wrote each other exactly one letter a month. (Except last month, when Kiyoshi wrote two, because he forgot to wish Kuwabara a happy birthday.)

The letters had started out short and simple. Kuwabara would ask if Kiyoshi was up to any trouble, or if anyone had been bullying him lately. 'Stay strong!' would be scrawled across the bottom of the page in large, sloppy handwriting. Kiyoshi would write back, with a few details of school. Hardly any bullies, a few friends, a good grade on an assignment. All's well.

But the letters got longer, and more detailed. And very, very complicated.

Kiyoshi found himself divulging secrets to Kuwabara that he had never dared share with anybody, even Sensui, who had no doubt coaxed many private words from Kiyoshi back then.

_**I'm lonely,**_ Kiyoshi wrote, once. _**I see everyone holding hands with their girlfriends, or kissing each other in the hallway when they think nobody else is looking. I feel confused, I guess. Why haven't I fallen in love with anyone yet? … Sometimes I wonder if I don't even like girls.**_

When he closed the mailbox that day, Kiyoshi considered prying open the metal box and stealing back his letter. Did he really just tell Kuwabara that? He could barely admit his confusion about love to himself, let alone someone he hadn't physically seen in over a year. Maybe Kuwabara would finally stop writing him, after he read this. Kuwabara probably thought Kiyoshi had a crush on him or something.

The reply had been unexpected, to say the least:

_**Mitarai**_ – _**Aw, I hear ya about the girls. I used to like this one girl a long time ago. Yukina. She's just a friend now, but it can be pretty awkward when we're together. I feel like I should be trying to win her heart or something, but I'd rather just talk to her about stuff as friends, y'know? Well… about not liking girls, I'm sure you'll figure it out on your own. Just think about it and don't worry so much! **_

The first thought that trickled into Kiyoshi's mind surprised him: _Does that mean Kuwabara is single?_

While writing the next letter, the blonde psychic tried to avoid all talk of love and girls… and boys, too.

People had jokingly called him gay before – usually right before grinding his face into the dirt—but he had always denied it. In truth, he hadn't thought of girls all that much. An occasional flush while talking to a pretty classmate, sure, but there had been no late night fantasies of hooking up with the Queen Bee, or thrown away love letters to the girl three seats to the left.

At the last minute, he hastily scribbled on the bottom of the page: _**Have you ever thought about a boy "in that way?" **_

The next month, Kuwabara began his letter with: _**Sure, hasn't everybody?**_

Afterward, the months, and the letters that went with them, went by quickly.

Sometimes, they would talk about love and girls… and boys, too. Most of the time, they would talk about each other. Kiyoshi wrote about his friendship with Kuwabara, and Kuwabara wrote about his own friendship with Kiyoshi. They wrote about "the day" that they would finally see each other again—they'd hang out, and Kiyoshi would pay for them both to see a movie.

It was strange, they knew. But it was a nice kind of strange, like the odd feeling of snow melting into your hair after you had retreated inside.

But right now, Kiyoshi was only concerned with opening his letter and reading what Kuwabara had to say this month.

He felt his stomach plunge when opened the envelope, and unfolded a letter that couldn't have had more than a few words written on it.

_**Mitarai**_ –

_**When you read this, I want you to turn around.**_

_**-Kuwabara**_

_Turn around…?_

Kiyoshi quickly spun around, exhaling the breathe he had been holding onto the neck of an unexpected Kuwabara.

A gentle hand found its way onto Kiyoshi's cheek, pulling the boy into a quick, gentle, and very first kiss.

Kuwabara pulled away slightly, and smiled.

"So, Mitarai, about that movie…"


	13. A Good Book

Title: A Good Book

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: This may not make much sense. I had a fever and was feeling depressed. Story is dark. First person from Kiyoshi's POV, but goes to third person (you'll see what I mean.) Doesn't take place in any particular part of the series.

Warnings: A few f-bombs. Graphic depictions of self-injury. A bit gory. It might be triggering to people in SI recovery.

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters. Don't own the bolded quote at the beginning.

--

_**Skin has a good memory. Skin is like the ground we walk every day; you can read a whole history in it—if you know how to look. **_

What would people think if they saw my skin, I mean _really_ saw it for what it was—would they peruse the pages of each millimeter of flesh, stopping when some catchy red phrase jumped out at them?

"Hmm," they'd say, licking the tips of their fingers. "That darkened callous right there is from the time when you, little Kiyoshi, jumped from the top of the jungle gym onto the concrete. Your mom scrubbed and scrubbed, but the mark never quite went away."

They'd flip a page, or two or three, skimming me with impatient eyes waiting for any excuse to throw the book away and move on.

"Ah, and that white scar on your elbow," murmured as they underlined the words with a finger, "is from the time you stole your big sister's diary, so she pinched you so hard that you bled. Funny, how little scars like that can tell a story…"

But eventually, they'd get bored or sick and throw the book away. It gets too gory, in the end. They'd _tsk_ and move on to another person, flipping through their glossy magazine cover with smug satisfaction. No bloody parts here, only lovely airbrushed models and tips on how to choose the best make-up for school on Friday.

Why is it people stop reading just when it gets to what really matters?

If they'd just stuck around to the end of the book, they'd get to hear about the time I swept a razor over my hip, parting my skin almost to the bone. Would they be surprised, I wonder, when this quiet little narrative exploded with crimson-laden poetry reserved for niche manga and banned films from underground, overseas companies?

"The razor burned through his skin with ease," it would say. "And he waited, mute, for the fire to start. It began to burn, and he watched for a storm. The gaping ground was bloodless, for a moment, until the rain filled the trench and streamed down his leg. A real Red Sea, he whispered. Laughed.

His trembling fingers reached into the wound, pushing it apart. It made a strange squishing sound that reminded him of raw meat. White hands that had been obsessively clean a second before were coated with the slick red hip-blood. Impossible, he thought. Impossible for me to be here, bleeding. Impossible for me to see what's in my flesh. Impossible to not be screaming. Didn't it hurt? Yes, yes it did but it didn't matter because he was broken and a little paint would spruce him right up.

Shivering hands stopped directly in front of his cheek. The mirror was so _clean _and so _perfect_ and he hated it. Tribal paint smeared across his face, across his cheeks, up his forehead. The crystal-shattering of the mirror went unheard in an icy, empty apartment. Glass clung to his fist like snowflakes.

The warrior-boy regarded his work. It would need stitches. I can sew, he thought. A skilled trade in his world.

He began to thread a red hot needle with a desperate smile. Just once, he said. I'll push it all the way through just once—to see what it feels like.

The needle pierced his arm with a deep breath and closed eyes raised towards the ceiling. Guttural war cries pushed halfway through the throat before retreating back down. It was pulled out with a hiccupping breath and an involuntary shudder.

A shrieking phone interrupted the games and a scream had to be suppressed before it could be answered.

"Kiyoshi? It's your mother. I'll be home early, they cancelled my meeting. Probably about 15 minutes, and don't—"

A hand-gag pushed down on the receiver.

Oh god, he says, loud enough that his neighbors could've heard. Oh _god. _

Hands fumbled for the needle, for the thread he swiped from his last check-up. His hands tremble again and he hears only _fucking wimp fucking wimp fucking wimp _drumming through his mind as he sees sloppy stitches being tied off and stained with salty tears.

Later that night, obsessively clean hands scratched the stitches and waited for the waterbed to pop."

They always throw me away before they get to that part.

I'd roll up my sleeves and let them read it, if they asked nicely.

"Could I read your story?" They'd say, with a curious or concerned or helpful look.

I'd have to gauge their honesty – no point in asking someone to edit your story if they aren't sincere. If they were, I'd smile, and let them peek under the sleeve-slipcovers and read my last pages carefully.

So far, no one has ever gotten to the end of my book.

But… I don't mind at all.


	14. Invisible Friends Are For Babies

Title: Imaginary Friends Are For Babies

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: Sorry for a lack of chapters this week! I've been caught up with Thanksgiving and reading a really good Karasu/Kurama fanfic that managed to not make me sick with fluff or too much gore. Anyway, this piece mentions Nobu (original character) a bit, so if you don't know who he is, you may want to read the other chapters. (Second one, at least).

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters.

--

Friends.

Friends were someone to laugh with, playfully punch on the shoulder, or completely trust with a deep, dark, terribly teenage secret.

Someone to turn to when you felt a little blue, or very blue, even downright suicidal.

Kiyoshi had no friends.

If he had been anyone else, he could've rested on the shoulder of his most trusted buddy after being shoved down the front stairs of the school. Or he could've split a lunch with a pal when his own had been tossed out the window.

But Kiyoshi had no friends.

It was a source of the deep, constant, carving uneasiness he always felt.

His first--and only real friend thus far--had been his father. Although Kiyoshi had been very young, and very little, his father insisted on doing everything with him. Fishing, camping trips to the country, even the occasional theme park vacation (although Kiyoshi was so small, he could only ride a rickety merry-go-round and catch goldfish).

But his father died, and Kiyoshi was left alone. In the lag time between the funeral and school, he created an imaginary friend to fill the gap his father left.

Nobu.

Nobu had long, flowing blonde hair, and bright blue eyes. Nobody thought he looked weird, because he was so kind and generous and he stopped to help little old ladies even when he was in a hurry. They talked all the time, and Nobu even slept in Kiyoshi's room, just in case a monster tried to eat Kiyoshi in the middle of the night.

Upon entering school, little Kiyoshi had been thrilled to find a boy that, by a child's logic, was _meant_ to be his new best friend forever. This new boy had the same name as his imaginary Nobu, after all!

The idea was quickly snuffed out.

And in time, the gentle name he used to call out when lamp-shadows became ferocious bedtime monsters became the name he'd say in humiliation, pleading for a returned book, a stolen lunch, or a foot pressed hard against his head.

The first of a long string of assignments that resulted in a call to his mother had been an art project: "Draw a picture of you and your best friend!"

A flustered teacher called his mother, all the while eying the downcast child fidgeting in a plush red office chair.

The offending picture was clutched in her hand:

Kiyoshi stood, knife in hand, over a blonde, bloody, dead-eyed Nobu.

Scrawled in a child's handwriting above Kiyoshi were: YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND ANYMORE.


	15. Like Mother, Like Son

Title: Like Mother, Like Son

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: This came out way longer than expected, as usual. Revolves around an encounter with Kiyoshi and his mom right after Sensui dies. A bit of self injury reference.

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters.

--

It was over.

Sensui had been killed.

Kiyoshi lead the group out of the tunnel, while Yusuke explained about Sensui's death. It was strange—thinking that now Sensui just… _wasn't_.

They all piled into a green pick-up truck (the same one that had kidnapped Kuwabara earlier) and headed home. Amanuma, who had been dead but hours before, eventually fell asleep on Kiyoshi's shoulder. _He's just a kid after all, _Kiyoshi thought. Maybe there really was hope for them both after this.

Goodbyes were said—a strong handshake from Yusuke, a firm smile from Kurama, and an awkward bear-hug from Kuwabara. Their little friend—Hiei?—merely glared, daring Kiyoshi to approach him.

It was time to go home.

When he gently pulled open the door to the apartment – to avoid waking his mother and stressing his injuries—he was surprised to find her sitting at the kitchen counter, wide awake.

_Just what I need, _he thought, hoping to tiptoe by to his room. _Someone to tell me I'm worthless again._

As he softly padded to the doorway, his mother turned to face him.

"Come here, Kiyoshi," she said, looking at him through unkempt bangs.

_Shit. She actually said my name… this can't be good. _He fought down the urge to run to his room and lock the door, and cautiously approached his waiting mother.

Neither spoke for a minute, until he saw his mother's shoulders slump forward slightly.

"So," she said, running a nervous tongue across her lip, "how long has this been going on… and when were you planning to tell me about it?"

"_What?" _The thought pushed out before Kiyoshi had a chance to hide it. Something was very different about his mother tonight. She was sitting upright, her skin seemed almost its normal shade, and her eyes weren't glazed over from a paycheck's worth of alcohol.

_Oh god, _he realized, feeling the first wave of panic hit him. _Why isn't she drunk? _

"How long have you been doing this?" She repeated with a bit more urgency.

"Doing what?" It could've been a number of things, Kiyoshi assured himself. It probably wasn't…

A clatter of metal pushed a second wave of fear into his stomach.

One of his trusty-razors was lying on the counter. A rag, crusted with the aftermath of a bad day at school, lay next to it.

"You're cutting yourself," she stated, not bothering to question it.

He said nothing. He couldn't think of anything to say to this new assault. _Why couldn't you have gotten sloshed and slapped me for coming home so late instead?_

After minutes of agonizing silence, his mother stood and approached him.

"Let me see them," she demanded with a tone that was all too familiar. It was the "Disobey me and you'll regret it" tone that he often heard when she told him to cough up some money for more beer.

"No."

Normally, he would've complied. But not today. On top of knowing that showing her the private wounds would cause him to feel absolutely horrific, he was also feeling brave. He'd stood up to far worse than a wicked mother today.

"Let me see them," she said, reaching for his arms. A note of desperation hit her voice when he backed away. "_Please." _

Kiyoshi bit his lip. She sounded so desperate, pleading with him like this. He hadn't heard his mother say "please" in a very long time, especially not with a sober voice.

"I…" he began, turning his face away. _Nononono_. _I __**can't.**_Then again, the look on his mother's face seemed so genuine, so concerned. Maybe just a little peek.

He slowly rolled up his left sleeve, revealing a patchwork of cuts and scars. Faded white scars mingled with the urgent red of a few fresh cuts, the deepest being the one required to create the monster that would've eventually almost drowned Kuwabara and his friends.

Her lips murmured in unknown words as she tenderly ran a thumb down his arm, through the countless injuries. Her eyes, normally dull with beer, were shining, though Kiyoshi didn't know if it was from tears or the strange way her lips curled when he showed her the cuts.

Eventually, she drew her hand away and tugged upwards at her own sleeve.

He couldn't stop the involuntary gasp from escaping.

There, underneath the pre-aging skin, were dozens of old, white lines.

_No… she couldn't have. Not her. She was so goddamn normal._

She noticed the look of astonishment in her son's eyes and smiled darkly. Oh, she knew. She knew every thought that raced through his mind as he gave himself into a burning hurt. She felt the slickness of her own blood streaked across a desperate face. She even knew his silly 'trick' of stealing razors from the art room, or popping them out from a regular shaving razor.

As quickly as she raised it, her sleeve was pulled down again, and her eyes lost their intensity.

She glided into the kitchen and pulled a large bottle from the fridge, taking a swig immediately.

"Don't be gone for so many days in a row again. I might run out of drinks."


	16. Merry Christmas, Part I

Title: Merry Christmas, Part I

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: Wow. I apologize for the long delay, but I just haven't felt the spark to write anything Kiyoshi related for a while. This chapter and the next are holiday related for your enjoyment! Happy Holidays! Nobu is a bit of an ass in this one. Takes place before the Sensui arc.

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters. Also, the celebration of Christmas in Japan varies from place to place, so definately don't take this as the absolute view of the holiday in Japan.

--

He didn't know why his mother always insisted on making a spectacle out of Christmas.

She would decorate their apartment door with every manner of gaudy lights and hang up garish tinsel that clashed with the ruddy brown of the door. Their windows were plastered with ridiculous holiday greetings and an old poster peel of Santa Claus that she had been using every year since he could remember. (He was beginning to lose the edges of his beard, and the top of his hat was lost long ago.)

It was ridiculous, he thought, watching through the classroom window as snow drifted into the courtyard. Christmas was hardly a huge holiday, in fact they were the only family in the building that openly celebrated it. And certainly no one else put up loud decorations that screamed: FOREIGNER.

Kiyoshi wondered why his mom still clung to Christmas. His father, who had insisted on celebrating his American holidays, had been the one to emphasize their importance while he was alive. He hadn't gone overboard with decorations, though. Usually, he just put up a tabletop tree and watched happily as Kiyoshi and his sister opened presents from "Santa Claus" each year. (Kiyoshi had, in fact, believed in Santa until his father passed away. His mother didn't have time nor the mind to address their presents from the fictional Nick.)

In any case, it was just another way for people to single him out as someone different.

Nobu, in particular, seemed to bring it up almost every day in December.

"Is _Sandra Claus _going to leave Kiyo-chan something under the Christmas tree this year?"

"_**Santa**__ Claus,_" Kiyoshi corrected, unconsciously. He mentally smacked himself when he realized the mistake. _He wanted you to correct him, idiot!_

"Ohhh," Nobu sneered, leaning his elbow on Kiyoshi's desk. "So you do believe in Santa Claus?"

Kiyoshi stared intently at his lunch, hoping to look busy and drive Nobu away. "No. That's stupid. But you said the name wrong, that's all." _Go away! _

"Hey, Nobu!" A mindless follower of Nobu's chimed in. There were quite a few of them now, surrounding the desk like vultures. "Have you seen the way Kiyo-chan's mom decorates their apartment for Christmas? I heard that it's so bad, the neighbors tried to get the apartment manager to make her take it all down."

"Oh?" Nobu raised an eyebrow toward his friend, signaling him to continue.

"Well, I guess his mom threw a fit and told them it was in the memory of her husband or something, so she just couldn't take it down."

Nobu gave an exaggerated sigh. "I understand now." He cleared his throat, and spoke up so that his entire gaggle of friends, and probably anyone in the class, could hear. "You all heard that, right? I don't want anyone here heckling our Kiyo-chan about his mom's Christmas obsession. She only does it because her husband used to love Christmas and it keeps his memory alive." He gave a small grin, and continued casually, "And I mean, it's not Kiyo-chan's fault that his dad is **dead**."

_Ouch._

Kiyoshi's head shot up, his cheeks suddenly red with anger.

Nobu placed a firm hand on the blonde's shoulder, giving a wolflike smile.

"Don't worry, Kiyo-chan. If anyone bothers you about the decorations, you can just tell me, and I'll give them a stern talking to." He winked, and Kiyoshi's stomach lurched forward. Nobu always knew how to get to him. But he had never gone so far as to mention Kiyoshi's father before.

"I…" Kiyoshi began, biting his lower lip. His voice was quavering, and he knew it would only take a small push from Nobu for the tears to come. He silently cursed himself for being so easily upset. _It'__s just your dad, you know he's __dead,__ it's not a big deal. He's been dead a long time. Calm down. __**Calm down.**_

He would rather have Nobu punch him than make him cry. He might cry either way, but at least a punch resulted in tears from physical pain, not from being a sissy.

"Hmm, Kiyo-chan?" Nobu scooted forward, adjusting his hand to rub the blonde's back softly, pretending to comfort him. Kiyoshi's stomach lurched again at the strange sensation. "It's okay to cry, you know. We're all _friends_ here."

_Damn it, _Kiyoshi thought, feeling a tear that had been teetering at the edge of his eyelid fall and streak down his cheek. His eyes clenched shut, and he tried to will his body to stop the flow of tears.

Kiyoshi felt something foreign on his face, and opened burning eyes to see Nobu, grinning as ever, rubbing at the tears with his thumb. The blonde flinched and broke away from his classmate, inciting laughter and more than a few jeers from the ever growing audience.

"C'mon, guys," Nobu said in false defense, "He's not used to having someone wipe away his tears—I doubt his mom would even think about touching him, and his dad can't exactly jump out of his ashes and do it himself."

Kiyoshi unsuccessfully tried to bite back a sob, and quickly found himself wishing he'd disappear behind his hands. Why the hell couldn't they all just leave him alone?

Nobu snorted, crossing his arms as he watched Kiyoshi crumble beneath him. "You're just too easy sometimes, y'know?" His friends concurred, throwing out more insults at the trembling boy. "But look at the time--lunch is almost over. Let's go, guys." He began to lead his group away, but took a step back and swiped Kiyoshi's lunchbox as an afterthought.

"Merry Christmas, Kiyoshi."


	17. Merry Christmas, Part II

Title: Merry Christmas, Part II

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: Not a continuation of the first Merry Christmas, but it's the second/last in my Christmas-themed chapters. It's at least more lighthearted than the last one, I promise. This one is much shorter than the last, but I hope it's still a fun read. Happy Holidays!

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters.

--

Kiyoshi took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell to Sensui's apartment firmly.

_No reason to be nervous, _he assured himself, although he couldn't help the way his stomach seemed to fall when the door opened to reveal a casually-clad Sensui.

"Mitarai?" He asked, sounding a bit more flustered than usual. He smoothed back an unkempt lock of hair. "What are you doing here?"

_Maybe I shouldn't have come…_

"Hello, Mr. Sensui," Kiyoshi said, swallowing back some nervousness. "I didn't mean to bother you—"

"No bother, Mitarai. Come in, please." Sensui opened the door and gestured inside, closing is gently behind the young blonde. "Is something wrong?" He asked, leading the boy to a scruffy-looking living room. "Did someone hurt you?"

Kiyoshi smiled, ignoring the voice that asked him why Mr. Sensui would assume he would run here after getting hurt, and ran his hands through his own hair nervously. "I, well… It's kind of stupid. I know you don't celebrate Christmas or anything, but…" he began digging in his backpack, and retrieved a small package from within. He held it out towards the older man. "I just wanted to give you this—to, you know, thank you for being so kind to me."

Sensui was silent for a minute, and Kiyoshi felt a wave of regret hit him. _I knew this was a stupid idea! He doesn't even celebrate Christmas, you idiot. _

Finally, Kiyoshi saw Sensui's eyebrows lift slightly—strange, since he rarely expressed any emotion even remotely akin to surprise—and a small smile formed across his lips. He took the box and gingerly lifted the top, revealing a simple brown sweater.

"Thank you, Mitarai." He gave a thankful bow, and placed the present on a nearby countertop. "It'll come in handy with the cold weather we've had lately."

Kiyoshi smiled, feeling a slight heat on his cheeks. At least _someone _appreciated his gifts. Speaking of which, he had to be getting home to his mother soon. He quickly greeted Itsuki, who had been watching the encounter from behind a cereal bowl in the kitchen, and promised Sensui that he'd make sure to practice his powers before their next meeting.

Sensui shut the door with a _click _and chuckled, holding up his new sweater.

Itsuki swallowed the last spoonful of his cereal (some strange brand an American actor was endorsing—a bit soggy, but Itsuki didn't really mind) and regarded Sensui with a lazy smile.

"Did that Mitarai-boy give you something for Christmas, Sensui?"

"Yes, he did," Sensui said, returning the smile a bit darkly, signaling to Itsuki that he wasn't talking to _Sensui_ at the present. "He will definitely be the one to betray us."


	18. Amanuma's Bridge, Part I

Title: Amanuma's Bridge, Part I

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: Kiyoshi/Kuwabara implications, if you want more backstory on that, chapter 12 "Letters" has it. This is part one of a two parter ficlet. The second features Amanuma, for those who need a break from Mitarai overload.

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters.

--

For a moment, Kiyoshi didn't know what to say.

It had been years since Sensui's death, and in that time he had become much more comfortable in his skin. He knew things, now. People weren't all bad. The world wasn't, would never be, black and white. He had made a few friends, begun patching up his deeper wounds, and was more or less moving on with his life. (As much as one can, he supposed, after almost helping someone destroy mankind and witnessing things that no normal person could even _dream _existed.)

His newfound self-assuredness had granted him a deeper friendship with Kuwabara--that had, more recently, resulted more than once in nervous hands unbuttoning nightshirts and uncertain breathes being bit down in the hallway to keep the neighbors from hearing.

But his new social skills didn't—couldn't, really—prepare him for something like this.

Amanuma, the former Game Master, was leaning over a bridge rail, casually resting his chin on his elbow, watching the bustle of a busy street below them.

Well, Kiyoshi was _sure _it was Amanuma. It had to be. His eyes held that same spark of an arrogant kid, although the encounter with Kurama had hopefully dulled it a bit, for the better.

He was much taller now – maybe even taller than Kiyoshi, in fact, but it was hard to tell with his current posture. His personal style remained much the same—old habits die hard, the blonde supposed, admitting that he had been too reluctant to shorten his hair and only under intense pressure from Kuwabara did he don something other than his simple yellow hoodie and jeans.

_I guess it's now or never, _he thought, bringing himself to stand next to Amanuma, leaning over the bridge rail in an unconscious mimicking of the younger boy.

Amanuma didn't notice, at first, that someone had taken the liberty of standing so close to him.

"Hey there, stranger." Kiyoshi tried to sound casual, unsure if the boy would recognize him, or even want to talk if he did.

Amanuma jumped, startled out of a daydream, and spun sideways to face the someone who had greeted him so personally.

"Do I—" he began, stopping as a slow look of realization came over his face. For a moment, he simply chewed softly on his bottom lip.

"_Oh_," he said finally.

"Oh?" Kiyoshi asked, feeling a little amused. Amanuma normally had the upper hand in their conversations, back when Kiyoshi was weaker, and Amanuma more certain of his superiority.

Amanuma turned back towards the street below, avoiding the blonde's eyes.

"It's you," he said. "Seaman."

"Mitarai. I'm not Seaman anymore."

The younger boy met Kiyoshi's gaze, then, looking a bit startled.

"_Oh,_" he said again, shoving a restless hand into his pocket. His lips quirked into a small smirk, and he raised a hand into a quick goodbye before walking away into the rush hour crowd.

Kiyoshi couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

_But_, he thought, fishing out his cell phone to call Kuwabara. _I guess some people never change…_


	19. Amanuma's Bridge, Part II

Title: Amanuma's Bridge, Part II

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: Part 2 of "Amanuma's Bridge." A first for me, since it focuses on Amanuma, and not Mitarai. It was originally an afterthought that I attached to the end of the first part, but it grew into it's own little piece. Enjoy! Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters.

--

Amamuna stopped near a small alleyway, turning quickly to avoid being seen. He leaned against the age worn brick wall, putting a hand on his stomach.

He hoped it would help quell the bitter, bile-like feeling that was rising inside him.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid! _

He hadn't meant to say "_Oh,"_ the way that he did. At least not the second time. It was all he could say at first—he hadn't been confronted directly with anyone from _that _time in his life since he had stopped writing letters to Kuwabara.

He wrote them somewhat regularly, at first, but after a while he figured it would be easier to cut anyone related to the incident out of his life. Kuwabara was just too much of a connection, too familiar, and any thoughts about Kuwabara could easily lead to thoughts about Sensui, and Kurama, and the last game of Goblin King he ever played. (It's not a feeling one forgets easily, Amanuma reasoned. Dying was a particularly memorable experience, and even on his happiest of days, the smallest thing would trigger a nasty flashback.)

He hadn't meant to say "_Oh,"_ at all, really, and for a moment he wondered if he could run back to the bridge fast enough to correct his mistake. Say something memorable, be a little friendly, apologize for the no doubt countless times he sent Mitarai home from a meeting with a chipped self-image.

More importantly, he had wanted to ask Seaman a question back there. Well, no. It was Mitarai now, he noted mentally. Not Seaman anymore. The older boy's rejection of his former code name had hit him in the stomach, causing the first prick of bile to rise, and fueling Amanuma's hasty retreat.

_He_ still went by Game Master, if only on the High Score records of arcade machines and roster lists in video game tournaments. He may not have wanted anything to do with the remaining Seven, or Yusuke and his group, but he couldn't throw his other persona away just like that.

Amanuma broke out of his thoughts when he unconsciously felt for his cell phone, finding it no longer safely tucked away in his front pocket. A flash of memory saw him laying it on the bridge for a second, while he waited for a friend to call back earlier.

Despite the dread of the thought that his phone was either lost forever or smashed to bits on the street below the bridge, Amanuma smiled. _At least this gives me a reason to go back there._

As he ran back to the bridge, clouds began to mute the afternoon high sun.

The shadow of the Goblin King loomed overhead, watching his former charge, happy and safe in the knowledge that the other boy was long gone, and Amanuma wouldn't get a chance to ask his question.

_How did you move on, __Mitarai_


	20. Atonement

Title: Atonement

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: The 14th volume of the manga was released in English today. While I don't really like the English manga (the translation is terrible and full of bad American slang and cheesy dialogue) it is the first manga to feature Sensui and Kiyoshi! FYI, the manga goes VERY FAST. And poor Kiyoshi looks a lot girlier in the manga! He's also a bit less sympathetic, in my opinion, but that might just be the crappy translation. (They have him say: "You can take your so-called bravery and shove it up your ego!" ... yeah.) this was inspired by the manga translation of his outburst at Yusuke's house.

Warnings: Dark subject matter, almost-not-quite stream of concsciousness (3rd person but it's meant to be read fluidly) and… that's it.

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or its characters.

--

It's happening again. Every night, the same sort of horrible dark gut wrenching dream. Or dreams. It depends on how many times he wakes up.

But it's happening again and he hates it.

A shot. A dead wife or mother or sister or brother has the privilege of their brains slapping the wall. A brand new coat of gory paint for their killer – is the killer the wife or mother or sister or brother? It's too hard for him to tell in the dark.

A child (or two or three or a hundred) screams. Again. One is tossed on the fire and it wails. The image of an infant being hurled into the flames reminds him tossing logs into a fireplace, although the logs have never screamed and screamed and screamed at him and in a second another child is trampled underneath a boot (or sandal or high heel or with a baseball bat).

He jolts awake, head pounding in time with boot stomps and he wishes he could get ready for school. But the clock mockingly reminds him that he has several hours to go and his eyelids are refusing to obey and soon he is back into the filmstrip dreams of Chapter Black.

And it's happening again.

It starts the same way as the one from last night (and last Thursday and Sunday and the week before that) and he can feel his tongue grow heavy and bitter in anticipation.

It's dark and a mass of squirming bodies reminds him of the worm sandwich Nobu made him eat last month, except the worms had been more kind to him. Each arm each leg each face is turning towards him, pointing an accusatory glare (or finger or toe) and a symphony of blame lays heavy in his ears.

It's dark and his hands are hidden and his legs won't move and there is no way to run away from their words.

_Murderer! _(no no no, he says, I haven't killed anyone)

_You will! You will you will you will! _(no no no, he mimics, and his head shakes from side to side)

_You will and we know it and you know it and everyone knows it _(why does his tongue feel so thick?)

_You'll be the same as the rest in the end, the same as the killers and murderers and liars and genocidal __wishmakers_(and the unconscious image of his blonde hair and blue eyes and an Aryan master race pushes through his ear and wiggles around in his brain until he can't think)

And then his body returns and he falls to the ground in front of a writhing pile of corpses, and shrieked words of remorse for something he had never done roll off his tongue like sweat.

He shudders and trembles and watches a maggot wave from the eye socket of a little girl, and all he knows is that he must (somehow someway ev_e_n if it kills him) get atonement for his never-sins.

The question looms over him the next day and week and until he is watching Kuwabara's friends kicking their legs in almost-death: _how do you atone for something you've never done?_


End file.
